


Wolves in the Winter

by Thedrunkhippy



Series: The Dragon and the Wolf [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 20:15:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedrunkhippy/pseuds/Thedrunkhippy
Summary: An AU where Daenerys & co. go to Winterfell to await Jon Snow and Jorah’s return from beyond the Wall. In which the timeline of Dany’s travels are more consistent.





	1. A Dragon in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fan fiction about a romantic relationship between the two of the most powerful women in the Westeros, making Jon Snow irrelevant to their plots. 
> 
> I see a whole load of Jonsa/Jonerys stuff and that’s great and all, but I hate the idea that Dany and Sansa have to be separate entities that are always portrayed as vexed at each other when they could be vexed at each other and in love.

There was never such a place as cold as the North that Daenerys had ever been too, the weather was pretty harsh as well.

After Missandei read out her title to the Northmen and their leaders there was not a sigh of awe or acknowledgement for her. Not really. She felt small under the weight of her own status, it was different here, Dany realized. Jon Snow wasn’t the North, he didn’t quite represent the people as she had thought.

She thought of him then, when the silence had become too much and Tyrion had to cut into it—— or break the ice as they say.

Dany wordered much longer Jon Snow and his recruits would take to return and if Jorah would return with them. She’d expected the Mormonts to be more like him, but his niece was nothing like him. Lyanna Mormont seemed to be a girl fit to be the head of a great house and for that she admired the young girl, but it would be a lie if she denied how disappointed she was that the only words they’d exchanged were something along the lines of:

“House Mormont has been a great asset to my campaign,” Dany had said.

“My uncle Jorah is not House Mormont,” Lyanna said and added (without saying it, but just giving Dany a sour gaze) ‘I am.’

Lady Sansa Stark was the one to say anything else after Tyrion.

“Well,” she said in a chipper sort of tone, the sort that is expected of a hostess and the lady of a house, “we’re glad to host you here, Your Grace.”

Sansa was slender and gorgeous. Her hair was long and had been kissed by fire. The big, bright smile on her face did not meet her Tully blue eyes. Deep within those eyes Dany saw what she did not see in Jon Snow. She saw what the North truly was. A place—not without warmth, but— lacking warmth. She imagined it wasn’t always that way, they were the eyes of a young woman who had been exposed to the cruelty of the world.

Beside Lady Sansa were several people. Her council or something of the sort. To her right was Petyr Baelish, “Littlefinger” as Tyrion— and many others— called him.

He seemed a gaunt and grim sort of man with beady observant eyes and open ears. For certain, Baelish had a silver tongue to go with the rest of him.

To Lady Sanaa’s left was a small plain looking girl, her hair was fashioned nearly identical to that of Jon Snow’s; it was tied back tightly into a sort of bun. Her name was Arya Stark.

Arya Stark didn’t wear a dress, she wore the garbs of the Starks, the garbs of a soldier. On her hips were two bladed weapons, one thin as a needle and the other was a valyrian dagger. Her arms were folded together behind her back, her eyes weren’t so cold, they were seemingly empty— Dany felt a shiver run down her spine. Varys had relayed some message to her just before they arrived. Walder Frey had died and the word was a girl who took the face of Lord Frey had, in fact, killed him, and the sole survivor of the incident had spread word out that, “the North remembers.”

It didn’t help when Varys added that Arya Stark had just come home from Braavos a place— according to Missandei— which housed a group of people called the Faceless Men. Assassins who took the faces of people they’d killed in order to kill more and more people.

Beside Arya was a boy with a long pale face, and dark hair. Bran Stark, the last living and legitimate male heir of House Stark. He was confined to a wheel chair and seemed nice enough, but he had a distant look in his eyes. Dany wondered how he’d survived. The idea of two brothers and their ever loyal servants and friends escaping and heading as far north as they could and returning seemed so fantastic and mysterious to her... though only Bran and Meera Reed has survived it all. 

From where she was there were three Ladies of the North, Sansa, Lyanna and Alys Karstark.

They allowed their women to yield weapons and those that didn’t— like Sansa— had guards. Sansa in particular had a bear of a woman as her’s. The woman was called Brienne of Tarth, she was taller than any woman Dany had ever seen and at her height, Daenerys had seen many tall women. Brienne’s blonde hair was cut short, her armor consisted of heavy steel plates and a wolf pelt cloak. She had a Valyrian sword and squire called Podrick Payne.

Tyrion knew the boy and seemed fond of him, in turn Podrick seemed fond of Tyrion and surprised to see the Lannister alive.

Littlefinger whispered into Sanaa’s ear momentarily and her smile seemed to diminish and return like a blink of an eye, “Lord Baelish has advised me to give you and your people a tour of our home,” Sansa said. “If you wish I shall be your guide.”

Tyrion looked over at his queen and Dany returned the glance. If you bring everyone with you it will seem like you don’t trust Sansa and they may think you a weak coward if you bring a guard.

“My people have travelled long and hard to come here, I shall let them rest and take the tour with you.”

This limited both of them and in truth it would let her people rest— and observe the northmen and their allies from the Vale, particularly Littlefinger and Arya Stark.

“As you wish,” Sansa said walking around the long and large table. Brienne moved to follow her, but Sansa slightly raised her hand in protest, “This is my home, Brienne,” she said. “I do not need to worry here.”

Dany realized this was a move on Sanaa’s part. To see proof of an equal alliance and to show her Northmen who this stranger was.

“Greyworm,” Daenerys called to one of her men. Sansa watched as he walked up his ranks and went to her side. Dany said something I a foreign language, perhaps instructing her guard to do the same. “Would it be quite alright if Missandei came along?”

The Northerner were not Southerners, Sansa thought, you could ask to bring a whore and they wouldn’t care all that much.

“Certainly,” Sansa said.

All eyes had been on the pair of them as they were playing their little game. “Let me come along,” Arya said. “If it isn’t too much——“ the voice seemed to pleasant and innocent that it caught everyone off their guard—except Bran who seemed to just be watching. “I’ve always wanted to see dragons.”

“You’re not afraid?” Dany asked.

“Should I be?” Arya asked quietly, but enough for everyone to hear. She tagged along and the four of them vanished through the doors. Eyes silently tailing them.

 


	2. Shadows in the Candlelight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some mushy chapter of Dany and Sansa becoming close, of course their new found friendship will be tested soon enough. (Sorry for any writing errors, I sort of just wanted to get this out.)

Sansa had been awake all night. They were hosting the Mother of Dragons, Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen... the queen. Sansa scoffed at the title for the fact that she once wanted to be queen—— to be Joff’s queen. Her mind fluttered to his wife the last legitimate queen of Westeros— at least in Sansa’s mind.

Margaery, regardless of the true nature of her affection for Sansa, was elegance, grace, beauty, brains... and despite being born into a royal house, she didn’t make it her duty to remind everyone she was of a noble family. This is why Sansa could not see past Daenerys’s seemingly arrogant demeanor. She wasn’t against the Dragon Queen, but she wasn’t for her. The only reason she would be is because Daenerys could take down Cersei and Jon trusted her, though after seeing Daenerys——Sansa wondered if he was judging Dany because of her value to their cause or... if it was for other assets.

It was undeniable, Daenerys Targaryen was a beautiful specimen. Nothing and nobody in Westeros resembled her. Her beauty surpassed Cersei’s, and even Margaery’s. Sansa bit her lip when a thought came to her. The last Targaryen to be so close to a Stark was Rhaegar and regardless of what truly happened, Rhaegar left his wife and his children to be slaughtered for a sixteen year old girl. Regardless of what truly happened Love was not what destroyed Westeros, it was lust.

That was when a soft knock came to her door, a visitor she was not at all expecting. “It’s me,” the voice was barely familiar, but she knew who it was.

“Your Grace?” Sansa said quietly after she opened the door. The winter had hidden the sun away, no matter the time it was still always dark in Winterfell. The queen held a candlestick, a single candle sat on it with its wick aflame. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” Sansa said and allowed Daenerys passage. She closed the door behind her and pulled her furs closer to her skin.

“I wanted to speak to you,” she said. “I wanted to speak to you alone and I wanted you to be able to be honest with me without the weight and pressure of everyone out there.” She places the candlestick on Sansa’s bedside table. “May I sit?” Dany asked.

“Yes,” Sansa said and moved across the room to sit beside the queen. It was odd, it reminded he of Margaery, at least the informal way the Tyrell had spoken to her, the informal and close way. The only thing missing were their arms locked together.

“I’ve never been somewhere so cold,” Dany was saying. “Yet, somehow Winterfell is quite warm.”

“There’s a hot spring running beneath our home,” Sansa explained. “The stone seeps in the heat and the heat stays in the walls... I’m sorry, I’m babbling. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Why should you be? You’re the Lady Regent of Winterfell.”

“Yes... I am.”

“Tyrion told me all that happened to you in King’s Landing, I hope you don’t hate him for that, but he is the Hand of the Queen.”

“Yes, it was his duty,” Sansa said.

“We’ve been through very similar situations, not identical, but the pain I’m sure...”

“I don’t mean to be rude, Your Grace, but what is it that you’d like to speak to me about?”

Dany nodded as she thought of the words to put together, “what can I do to make the Northmen accept me as their queen.”

Their queen...

“They’ll never accept you, not after all the south has done, their queen must be of the North—“

“Are you implying you—?”

“No, I’m saying you need to form an alliance in the way all noble alliances are formed without bloodshed. Through marriage.”

“So you’re saying I marry a Northmen?”

“Exactly,” Sansa said. “But not just any, you need to marry a Stark.”

Dany thought about it for a moment. “Jon... oh, you mean your younger brother. Brandon?”

“If what you’re telling me is true, about what you’ve been through, then Bran would be your safest bedfellow and partner to have. What he lacks he makes up for with his insight.”

“Insight?”

“It’s complicated, but regardless, Bran—“

“He’s still a child,” Dany said suddenly. “Jon—“

“Is a bastard,” Sansa said. “He is my brother, but he is not a true Stark. If you wish to bed Jon then by all means go on, perhaps if you wish to have heirs then he could help you since Bran can’t—— but you must consider—“

“I cannot... I cannot have children,” Dany said. “This is why marriage has never been on the plate for me, not for a very long time.”

“Who told you that?”

“The witch who murdered my husband.”

Sansa scoffed and did not scold herself for it, “has it occurred to you that she might not be a reliable source of information?”

A soft smile fell onto Daenerys’s face and suddenly Sansa felt light, it was a genuine sort of smile, the candid smile of an amused child. Daenerys didn’t notice Sansa blushing in the dim room lit only by the single candle Dany had brought with her.

“Regardless,” the dragon queen said. “For now I only hope for an alliance and without marriage. For that I look to you.”

“Me?”

“They claim Jon Snow to be king, yet I’ve met you and I feel as though I’ve finally met my equal. Despite your quiet nature, I’ve seen the people of your council, I’ve met your sister, I’ve seen your guard, and Tyrion has told me what you’ve survived.”

“I’m flattered, Your Grace, but Jon is the King of the North.”

“And you’re loyal,” Daenerys said. “A Stark quality and a quality lacking in this realm. I want you in my council, Lady Sansa. I want you more than any of them men who have entered it.”

Sansa thought for a moment, weighing her loyalties to Jon and to the Northmen who want to cast aside the king they so loved a moment ago for her— for Sansa. Now here was the dragon queen asking her to be part of her council and it was a good fit. She wouldn’t be usurping her half-brother and she would be able to have her hands in the mesh of power to protect her people and most importantly to protect her family. “I’d be honored then, Your Grace.”

Daenerys put a hand on Sansa’s, the Stark’s heart skip a beat. She wished she’d taken her hand away, but Sansa hadn’t moved nor had the dragon queen. “What’s wrong?” Daenerys asked finally moving her hand to wipe the tear off of Sansa’s cheek. Sitting beside each other they were of the same height. No one looked up to anyone or looked down. “Queen Margaery... she’d been my friend and nobody has spoken to me like her until... until you.”

Daenerys suddenly realized something queer about Sansa, for all the walls she built up it only took the touch of an honest woman to tear them down. How long had Sansa felt so alone, Dany wondered. She felt empathy, not pity, she wished she could hold the younger girl closer to her and so she did.

The pair sat there for a time holding each other. Daenerys stroking Sansa’s Tully red hair. “You must think me a child, a stupidly weak child...” Sansa said.

Dany scoffed, “no, Sansa,” she said. “Tears are not weakness, tears are the aftermath of survival.”

They parted from each other, “thank you, Your Grace.”

“No, thank you, Lady Sansa.”

They looked each other in the eyes, it seemed like a time until their glances broke and perhaps they wouldn’t have if nobody knocked on Sansa’s door.


	3. Beyond the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which decisions need to be made before things turn sour and reunions come to pass.

The clanging of steel echoed through the yard, but Arya Stark was not near any of it. Nor was Podrick Payne. She'd taken to training the squire and ever since the Queen Daenerys had arrived she'd wanted to see the queen's dragons again and since she knew Podrick didn't get a chance to see them yesterday they hoped to catch a glimpse of it at the abandoned tower. Arya had asked Bran if he wanted to see one, but he'd told her there were stairs and he didn't want to be trouble, nonetheless, there seemed to be more to his protest that he wasn't telling her, aside from the bad memories the place might have held for him. He didn't speak much these days and when he did he was almost as cryptic as Jaqen. Arya sighed at the thought of her old master. She wondered if she could ever tell anyone about her time at the House of Black and White if there was anyone it would be Bran and Jon. Bran would because he had become so bizarre and Jon would because Arya was his little sister. The thought of seeing him soon excited her, but her train of thought broke as a dragon flew overhead. It's wings were a powerful force as if it could bend the air around it. "There! There!" Arya squealed excitedly. She'd been bursting from all the emotions she hadn't felt in a very long time. Podrick sat up off the floor beside the window and they both peered out with their hands on the ledge. 

Their hands were quite close, usually Podrick would have noticed and wrenched himself away in terror that she would- for some reason-- be angry with him for being so close. But the dragons allowed all those anxieties to vanish. The first had flown away and they'd barely caught its tail, but the came the second one. "That one is called Drogon," Arya said. "It's the largest and wildest one." 

Podrick looked at her, Arya wasn't a very big person, she wasn't tall in any means of the word, but wild she was, even with her calm facade. He met her when she was just a girl, that felt like such a long time ago. He'd seen her again when Brienne was still searching for the Stark girls, that time the Hound was her protector and he had been so amazed that she was so willing to travel with such a person. Arya seemed to be a good judge of character, so he supposed they had Sandor Clegane all wrong, but he was dead now, Arya said she'd left him to die and went to Braavos. "And that one?" Podrick asked.

"Viserion," she said. "Named after Daenerys's other brother." 

The moment had passed when the dragons vanished and Podrick realized how close they were standing together and he drew away, Arya did not notice. "I suppose we should head back now, my lady." 

"Alright," she said. "But until you call me Arya you're going to have to stay here."

"I--I'm sorry, Arya, it's quite new to me."

"It's been a while since we've been acquainted, it shouldn't take this long." 

"I still call Lady Brienne, Lady..." 

"You've got a point, come on along, Pod." 

They went down the steep spiraling staircase and headed back toward the main grounds of Winterfell. People were crowding the way to the main hall and Arya had to push past the Northmen to find out what was happening. Sansa was seated in her usual spot, but this time-- in Jon's seat-- stood Daenerys. Arya grumbled, but it didn't take long for her to realize something was wrong. "You cannot go, Your Grace," Tyrion was saying. A scroll was in Sansa's hand, she was likely not the first to read it. "I have to," Daenerys said. "I sent them out there." 

"Send somebody else, Your Grace." 

Arya said nothing, she only observed. "Your Grace," Sansa spoke up. "May I say something?" 

The Northmen quieted down and all eyes were on her older sister. "Of course, Lady Sansa." 

"With all due respect, Lord Tyrion, Queen Daenerys is right. She sent our king Beyond the Wall and now he is in danger. She not only has the right, but is responsible for the future of the North now."

Those among the council understood what Sansa was trying to say. If Daenerys wanted the respect of the Northmen she would risk life and limb for their king as their king as risked life and limb for her. This was the way of the North before the Boltons. "Would you go then, if it were you?" Tyrion asked her.

"Yes," Sansa said without hesitation. "The King of the North is out there, he is my brother. If I had three dragons I would go too." 

"Sansa..." Tyrion said. "Do you understand what it would mean if..."

"I'll go too," Arya said walking out of the crowd. 

"That's kind,  but--" Daenerys began to say when Arya threw her dagger across the room barely missing a hair on Dany's head. The Unsullied pointed their spears at her and the Dothraki were ready to tear her apart. Sansa's eyes were wide in terror and so was Petyr Baelish's, the color had drained for everyone's face. Yet, Arya remained cool and collected. Arya said. "Valar dohaeris." 

"All men must serve," Missandei translated. 

"Where did you learn to say that?" Daenerys asked. 

"The House of Black and White," Arya said. "Where I learned a great many things."

Daenerys had heard of the place long ago, a tale she thought Visaerys told her to scare her, but here was Arya Stark, a person not likely to miss, unless she meant to. "A Faceless Man?" Missandei said with her eyes wide. 

"Very well," Dany said and turned to Sansa. "This decision is up to you." 

"Arya?" Sansa said sternly.

"I'm going to save our brother," she said. "I'm going to keep the queen safe. I'll come back Sansa. I did it once, I can do it again." 

Podrick felt his gut twist inside of him. He wanted to say something, but the words weren't coming out. He wanted to tell her it would be a mistake, she would die... but nothing came out. 

A few minutes later Arya was geared up and standing in front of the three dragons as they landed. Daenerys mounted Drogon and on either side of him were the other dragons. Before Arya could even approach Viserion he reared away and huffed at her as if disgusted by her presence, yet Rhaegal sniffed at her. Daenerys and Sansa watched in fear that the dragon would eat her, but it moved its large nose beneath her tiny hand. Daenerys left out a laugh of relief and amazement. "They don't often take to people so kindly." 

Arya smiled and pet the beast, its scales were rough and leathery. "My lady," Podrick said running up to her. "Don't forget this." 

She'd left the dagger on the post where it had wedged itself into. "Thank you, Pod and its Arya." 

"Please," he said in a low voice so only she could hear. "Be safe." 

"You too, Pod," she said and took the dagger from him. He would scold himself later if Brienne did not. He embraced her and she froze. "I..." Arya sighed. "Stop worrying, Pod. I'll come back." 

Sansa tried to supress her smile and looked at Brienne who was a second away from fainting at how he had just handled his lady. "I think he wants you to ride him," Daenerys said. Podrick's face went red, but nobody noticed. "I think Rhaegal wants you to."

"I thought only Targaryens were allowed..."

"It isn't up to us, it's up to the dragons. I wouldn't trust just anyone with them, but your family has done a lot for me thus far."

Arya looked up at the beast and felt a bit of sadness that Nymeria wasn't the beast she'd be going into battle with. 

"You don't have to," Daenerys said. "But if you want to and you think you can just hold on to him tightly. He'll do the rest." 

Together Arya, Daenerys and her dragons flew further north. Arya held tight onto Rhaegal. She wanted to put her hands up and scream in joy, but she knew she'd probably fall and die so she kept herself low as they went above the north. She'd never seen anything this far up. Perhaps this is why Daenerys, despite her height, seemed to look down on everyone, but now Arya wondered if the queen really was looking down at everyone. Perhaps she just had that sort of presence the way Sansa did. 

_There!_ Arya thought as they flew closer toward a bit of rock. A group of men were huddled onto it fighting an army... an army of the dead. 

Viserion opened his mouth and a burst of fire blew away at the undead. Daenerys flew down to rescue the men on the rock as Arya and Rhaegal circled about helping clear a path. She saw Jon was still on the rock and everyone had fled. "Jon!" She called out as loud as she could. Jon Snow looked up at his little sister, his face was left in a confused grimace. That was when everyone's attention was diverted toward Viserion. Daenerys had said nothing, but her face said it all. The face Arya had imagined her mother must have worn when she witnessed Robb die. "Go!" Jon said to them. Daenerys was reluctant leave, she looked at Arya who gestured for her to leave. Daenerys flew off when a sudden disconnect was felt between Arya and Rhaegal and he turned himself over and flew away leaving her free falling into the icy water. 

She fought to reach the surface again, when something grabbed at her hand. She reached for her dagger and came face to face with Jon. They swam up together and surfaced. Back to back, they faced thousands of dead. "Take this," Jon said reaching into his cloak to pull out dragon glass. "Without a valyrian steel weapon you'll do nothing to them."

"Luckily, I have one," Arya said drawing out the catspaw dagger. 

"Arya... this isn't a game, I can't protect the both of us."

"Then I will," Arya said. Her face and fingers were numb, but there was a fire rising inside of her. A fire that would not go out until she and Jon were back safely in Winterfell. She'd promised Sansa and Podrick. She wasn't a person to break promises. She slashed away at the undead as they rushed toward them, but the pair were getting pushed together then something happened. A hooded horseman came flinging a sort of a flail with fire inside of it. He broke through the line of walkers and slowed his pace as he approached them. Arya and Jon stayed on their guard as he pulled down his hood. "Uncle Benjen?" Jon said, it took Arya a moment to recognize him. "Go!" Benjen said. "Take my horse, go!" 

Jon pushed Arya up the horse and she pulled him up. They watched as an ocean of walkers drowned him, Jon cursed. But they rode off toward Castle Black. 

Jon had passed out and Arya struggled to hold the reigns and keep him from falling, but she could see the Wall and the dragons flying overhead. The two dragons left. The horn sounded and the gates were drawn open. Arya thanked the gods, new and old, and cursed in relief because her whole body had gone numb and her eyes were growing heavy, she heard a familiar voice as she drew nearer the gate, "for fuck's sake, the wolf bitch lives..." it was the Hound and a wall of men from the Brotherhood Without Banners were just behind him-- 

Arya Stark fell off the horse unconcious and a group of men came to carry the pair of them in. One of those men was Gendry. "What is it?" Davos Seaworth asked. "Gendry?"

He looked at the pale face of the girl laying on her side, he crouched down and took her in his arms. "Gendry?" Davos said as he followed the young man into the castle. 

 

 


	4. In a Black, Black Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A split chapter between Dany and Arya

Daenerys ran to the main hall and out of the lift when she saw the siblings get hauled in. "Is he alive?" She asked Edd, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

"Aye," he said. 

"Snow never dies," Tormund was saying, a Wildling who was one of Jon Snow's men. 

"And Arya?" She asked. "Is she alive too?" 

Edd nodded. "They just need to be taken out of their garbs and warmed, if you could, Your Grace. I think it'd be better for a woman to undress Lady Stark." 

Daenerys did not hesitate. She was taken to the Lord Commander's room and she pulled apart Arya's clothes. At the corner of the room, a young man stood in the shadows. "If you're going to stay here, at least help." 

"Yes, Your Grace," he said. She looked up at him. 

"You're one of Jon's," she said. "From Kingslanding." 

"Yes, Your Grace," he said. There was a look of shock stamped over his face like a terrible scar. 

"You must be in shock from what you saw," she said.

He was, he was in shock at seeing Arya Stark. When Daenerys got down to Arya's smallclothes Gendry excused himself and left the room. Daenerys disposed of them and had them sent to be defrosted, she was sure Arya wouldn't wish to share a wardrobe with her. When Arya came to she bolted up, all the color returned to her face. "He's alive," she said. "They were all there. I thought I was going to die!" 

"The walkers?" Daenerys asked.

"No. The Hound, the brotherhood and..." she couldn't recall who else, but for some reason, she wanted to say Gendry, but she hadn't seen him. Was it a hallucination? "Jon!" She finally said. "Is Jon...?"

"He's alive," Daenerys said. "In another room." 

"Viserion..." Arya said. "I'm so sorry..."

"It wasn't your fault, I had gone in half-believing your brother and now... now I know. I'm going to help the North, Arya. I'm going to help people, but we're going to need to go to Kingslanding." 

"Why? Why did any of this have to happen?"

"We need to prove to Cersei Lannister that there are more important things to worry about now, the war for the throne can wait." 

After a second Arya asked, "are Drogon and Rhaegal alright?" 

"As alright as brother mourning," Daenerys said.

"And you?" 

"I'll be alright," she said. "Rest now, you'll be called later when your clothes are ready."

Arya felt her side frantically. "My sword and--"

They're over there," Daenerys said gesturing at the table. 

After that Daenerys left Arya's room and headed for Jon's. 

She sat up with only the thick fur blankets covering her, she wanted to stand close to the fire and gain the feeling of her face and fingers back. She wrapped the covers around her and lounged on the armchair sitting in front of it and fell back asleep. Maybe she'd dream again. It wasn't long before somebody banged on her door. "Come in," she said pulling the covers close to her. 

The tall figure needed to duck down to enter the room, but she knew who it was. "You're alive!" She gasped.

"Aye, and so are you," he said, a smile tugged on his lips. "Here, got your clothes, I'll leave you to it. I just wanted to make sure you really were alive." 

"Hound," she said after he'd tossed the clothes carelessly at her bed. "I'm glad your not dead."

"I'm glad you aren't either, wolf bitch," they smiled at each other. "When you're done, come out. I've been instructed to take you to your brother."

Arya nodded and Sandor left the room. She got dressed quickly and put her weapons back on her hips. She pushed the door open and he looked down at her, "that one's pretty, haven't seen it before."

"It's new," Arya said putting her hand on the dagger. "Valyrian steel." 

"How the fuck did you come to get a valyrian steel sword?" 

"How the fuck are you alive?" 

"I could ask you the same thing." 

They reached the snowy yard where brothers of the Night's Watch eyed her. "Fuck off," Sandor said. "This is Lady Arya Stark, put your eyes back in your head or I'll pluck them all the way out."

"I don't need your protection," Arya said scolding him.

"Aye, but it's fun to scare the little ones," he said with a laugh. They climbed up to the stairs that led up to the dining hall and upon entering Beric Dondarion greeted her, she would have lashed out on him, but it seemed there was something deeper in his usual smile. Where was Thoros? "Lady Arya," he bowed. "May I have the honor of sitting beside you as we eat?"

"Sure," she said and they all sat together. She saw some familiar faces. "Anguy," she said to the archer. 

He gave her a slight bow of the head,  _where was Thoros?_ She wanted to ask, but she was afraid to, that's when Sandor whispered to her, "the Red Priest died," he said. "It was my fucking fault." 

Daenerys entered shortly after accompanied by an old balding man and Jon. Arya stood and nobody stopped her as she walked across the hall to embrace her brother. He crouched down and buried his face into her neck. They had waited so long to see each other and finally, here they were. "Little sister," he said with a hoarse voice. "I suppose you're not so little anymore. You did well, Arya." Jon turned briefly to introduce Arya to his companions, "this is my youngest sister, Arya Stark."

"My Lady," Ser Davos said. 

"M'lady..." another voice came from behind him and time seemed to go slowly and then all at once. 

"You idiot!" She said brushing everyone aside to punch Gendry. "You bloody idiot!" 

"Ouch, ow, Arya!" Gendry let out and was close to laughing when Jon cocked his head at his friend. 

"Arya?" Jon said. "You two know each other?" 

"Aye," Beric said. "They were close friends. We'd taken them in."

"And then you sold Gendry," Arya said.

"For fuck's sake, not this again," the Hound said. "We all nearly died, let's give it up."

"You all knew my sister?" Jon said, his voice rising, his face going red. "You all knew her and said nothing to me?"

There was silence and fear, but the Hound broke through it all, "why would we? We thought the wolfgirl was dead." 

Jon turned to look at Gendry who had wanted so badly to be friends and now with a look he questioned him, "I'm sorry," Gendry said.

"We'll speak of this another time," Daenerys said. "We must make plans and send word to Sansa." 

_Sansa,_ Arya thought. The way Daenerys had said her sister's name had a string of urgency to it. "Are you coming with us?" Jon asked Arya. 

"I can't," she said. "I promised I'd be back after this. I'll head home and give word." 

"I'll come with you," Gendry said. 

She shook her head at him and narrowed her eyes, it was a nasty look that everyone understood. "Arya--" Gendry was saying when Jon grabbed his shoulder with a cold heavy hand, Jon drew him close so that only Gendry and he could hear each other.

"She's your lady, not Arya, do you understand?" Jon said. 

"I'm sorry then," Gendry said sharply. "Your Grace." 

"Gendry, she's my sister, whatever reason she has to be angry with you is a reason I should be." Jon let him go and Gendry left to catch up to Arya.

"Now that all that is over..." Daenerys sighed. "We've got a ship ported, a wigt ready, and Kingslanding on the horizon." 

The door opened and a messanger came into the room, "Lord Commander," a nightswatchman said. "Word has come from Winterfell." 

Edd took the scroll. "A trial is to be held in Winterfell," Edd said. 

"For who?" Daenerys asked.

"It doesn't say, it just asks for your presence." 

Daenerys's heart skipped a beat.  _Please, not Tyrion._ "Keep that thing here," she said. "We'll go to Winterfell first."

"Are you sure?"

"If we can take it with all the way south, I'm sure we can wait a bit longer. Just a day." 

"Very well," Jon said. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dany x Sansa in the coming chapter and some more reunions.


	5. Little Birds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick chapter to set up the next. Updating soon!

The tips of Sansa’s finger lined up together as she sat in her chair by the fire. This had been her mother and father’s room. It seemed too empty to be in, but for now the fire would have to do. A knock came to her door, “enter,” she said and Meera Reed rolled Bran into her chambers. Meera would be leaving soon, Sansa wanted to know so much more and she hopes to learn of what happened Beyond the Wall from Meera since Bran wasn’t saying much. “Leave us,” Bran told her. A part of Sansa cringed at the way he had waved the young woman off. “Thank you,” Sansa said before Meera could disappear again.

”Yes, my lady,” was all Meera said in reply.

Sansa would’ve scolded him, but there wasn’t time. She stood from her chair and waited for him to speak and when he didn’t she began to pace. “They’ll be here by morning,” Sansa said. “Do you have sufficient proof?”

”Yes,” Bran told her. “For now, you’ll have to play along.”

”Brienne...”

”I saw her and her squire leave for King’s Landing not too long after you sent the raven to Castle Black.”

”Then it’ll happen tomorrow.”

”He who passes the sentence should swing the sword, could you?”

”No...” Sansa said. “That’s why we’ve asked for Arya.”

Sansa moved beside her desk where a small satchel laid open. Littlefinger has given it to her, he had stolen it from Arya’s room. At first Sansa was furious, but when he explained to her what exactly Arya learned in the House or Black and White she was frightened. It wasn’t a few seconds later that she realized what he was trying to achieve. “The Northmen saw how Arya stepped up, how she would risk everything for her king. Perhaps they’ll see her as the real Queen of the North.”

Sansa doubted that very much, besides Arya never wanted to be a queen or even a princess. Yet, if Arya truly was a Faceless Man then Bran could be the Three Eyed Raven. So she asked him for help and he helped by warging through the birds around Winterfell. Sansa had laughed at the thought that little  birds truly were watching everything everyone did. 

He would have no idea what was coming. Part of Sansa felt sad, but it wasn’t because she would miss Littlefinger, it was because he had been the only friend she had for a long time. 


	6. The Mockingbird in the Wolves Den

 The morning sun had still not shown itself through the thick clouds of winter, despite the falling snow, Arya Stark could see Winterfell on the horizon. Even now she felt herself holding her breath as she beheld the sight of home. Nothing was more beautiful than the thick stonewalls of Winterfell, nothing safer. With her was her brother, Daenerys Targaryen, Sandor Clegane, and a few others including Gendry. She cursed in her head at the thought of him. Arya had already forgiven him the moment she saw him, yet, part of her couldn't let go of the fact that if he hadn't been taken away by the Red Woman he would have stayed with the Brotherhood, therefore abandoning her. Arya could feel his eyes on her. She could picture his pouting expression, Gendry could give Jon a run for his money when it came to the way he brooded, though, sometimes Arya wondered if Gendry was really brooding. Sometimes he just looked like his head was lost in the clouds. "I can't believe we're home together," Jon said to Arya as he rode up beside her. 

"Do you remember what you told me when you left?" 

"I can't say I do," Jon replied. "It was a very long time ago."

"You said different roads sometimes lead the same castle," Arya said. She held his hand and gripped it in hers. They had all gone their separate ways and for the most part, it wasn't what they wanted, yet here she was with Jon and awaiting them was Bran and Sansa. He gripped her hand back and said, "little sister." 

Once they let go of each other the rest of their group caught up and once more they head home. 

* * *

 

All were gathered at the Great Hall when Jon, Arya, and Daenerys entered. They proceeded toward the high table, "Arya," Sansa said, halting her sister in her spot. "Stand there." 

Jon turned to look at Sansa, but she did not look back at him. Fear washed over his face. "Sansa?" Arya looked from her left to her right at all the men present. Her hands folded behind her back, she looked at her older sister with patience and trust, though she could not deny a tinge of anxiety twisting at her stomach as silence fell over the court. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Bran asked Sansa, the words were heard by everyone, yet Arya stood still and kept her eyes on her sister. 

"It's not what I want," Sansa said, "it's what honor demands."

Littlefinger smirked in his corner, under the shadows, hidden from the sight of everyone else. Jon noticed that Brienne was not present and it struck him then, B _rienne pledged to protect both my sisters, did that also mean she'd protect them from each other_ , Jon wondered. 

"And what does honor demand?" Daenerys asked before Jon could say a word. 

"That I defend my family from those who would harm us." 

At those words, Arya felt her body loosen. Whatever Sansa was up to, it didn't involve harming her. "That I defend the North from those who would betray us." 

"Alright then," Arya said. "Get on with it." 

"You stand accused of murder, you stand accused of treason, how do you answer these charges..." Sansa's words hung heavy for a moment, she turned her head slowly, eyes fixed on him, "Lord Baelish?" 

Petyr Baelish blinked, his eyes went wide as if he had just woken up from a dream. A smile tugged on Arya's lips and she turned to him. "My sister asked you a question," Arya said to him. He looked from one sister to another, helplessly. 

"Lady Sansa, forgive me, I'm a bit confused," he said. 

"Which charges confuse you?" Sansa asked. She leaned forward in her chair and folded her hands together, her face remained cool, but her voice rose. 

Jon fell to his chair to the left of Sansa and let himself breath. He knew nothing, especially nothing of his sisters. It had been a time. "Let's start with the simplest," Sansa said. "You murdered our aunt, Lysa Arryn. You pushed her through the Moon Door and watched her fall... do you deny it?" 

"I did it to protect you." 

"You did to take power in the Vale. Earlier you conspired to murder Jon Arryn, you gave Lysa Tears of Lys to poison him. Do you deny it?" 

He began to truly squirm then, he moved from his corner to the center of the room as if he were a murmur in a play. "Whatever your Aunt told you... she was a troubled woman. She imagined enemies everywhere." 

"You had Aunt Lysa send a letter to our parents telling them that it was the Lannisters who murdered Jon Arryn. When really it was you. The conflict between the Starks and the Lannisters, it was you who started it. Do you deny it?" 

Daenerys watched as Sansa's words became harsher, like a wolf starving for its prey. Daenerys bit her lip, Sansa was a queen, yet, Dany did not fear her, she felt completely aligned with the Stark. Baelish tried to speak, but Sansa kept on. "You conspired with Cersei Lannister and Joffrey Baratheon to betray our father, Ned Stark. Thanks to your treachery he was imprisoned and later executed on false charges of treason." 

"I deny it!" Baelish said. He began to dance around the situation, as Sansa expected. "None of you were there to see what happened, none of you knows the truth." 

A voice cut in from behind him, "you held a knife to his throat," Bran said. "You said, 'I did warn you not to trust me'." 

Littlefinger went white as a sheet, as if the dots were connecting in his head, every route of escape was blocked off or collapsed by the words of the Stark children. "You told our mother that knife belonged to Tyrion Lannister," Bran gestured at Arya's waist and she unsheathed the dagger. "But that was another one of your lies. It was yours." 

Littlefinger was an animal trapped in the corner, desperately he went up to Sansa and placed his hands on her table. "Lady Sansa, I have known you since you were a girl. I've protected you." 

"Protected me? By selling me to the Boltons." 

"If-if we could speak alone... I could explain everything." Daenerys watched the man frown, it was the genuine grimace of a lover being told that they were not wanted. The face of someone so in love with someone else that they'd just now realized whatever love they felt was not being returned to them. It was being thrown back. She was breaking his heart. 

"Sometimes when I'm trying to understand a person's motives, I play a little game, I assume the worst," Sansa said. Petyr's head fell slow, he had not only had his heart broken, but he had been beaten at his own game. "What's the worst reason you have for turning me against my sister? That's what you do, isn't it? That's what you've always done. You've turned family against family, you turn sister against sister. That's what you did to our mother and Aunt Lysa, and that's what you _tried_ to do to us." 

"Sansa, please..."

"I'm a slow learner, it's true. But I learn." 

"Give me a chance to defend myself, I deserve that." 

Sansa sat back in her chair and watched as Petry marched over to Lord Royce and demanded to be escorted back to the Eyrie. Lord Royce refused him, without a second thought. 

There was no escape for him. "Sansa," he said as he fell to his knees, tears welling up in his beady eyes, "I beg you. I loved your mother since I was a boy."

"And yet you betrayed her." 

Daenerys had found herself in situations like this before, it reminded her of Viserys. This time though, this time there was not a man to do the job. "I loved you," Petyr said. "More than anyone..." 

"And yet, you betrayed me." Sansa stood from her chair, "when you brought me back to Winterfell, you told me there's no justice in the world unless we make it. Thank you for all your many lessons, Lord Baelish. I will never forget them." Sansa looked to Arya and Arya understood what to do next. 

All eyes were on Arya Stark as she took a few steps toward Petyr Baelish, all eyes except for Daenerys's which were still on Sansa. She did not see what happened after he uttered Sansa's name one more time, his last word... "Sansa..." 

Daenerys did not see how fast and clean Arya had sliced his throat open, nor did she see the blood sputtering out of it. Daenerys saw a tear trickle down Sansa's cheek, yet she did not look away as he died on the floor of the Great Hall. 

Jon Snow saw it all, saw that not only could Arya fight, but she was a killer. A part of him felt better. No more Littlefinger to worry about and now that everyone saw how calm and collected both his sisters were they might think twice to ever lay a finger on either. 

Petyr Baelish fell with a thud. 

After a moment everyone was excused and Littlefinger's body was dragged out of the hall. "I wanted you to know," Sansa said to Daenerys once she approached. 

"Know what?" 

"I wanted you to know what happens to people who betray us. I had a lapse of judgment that morning when you came to see me. I showed you how vulnerable I could be, but I wanted you to know that I don't cry my way through life. Not anymore. If we are to be allies its important that we know each other's strengths, weaknesses, and each other's enemies." 

"Well," Daenerys said. "We have two enemies in common. The Threat Beyond the Wall and Cersei Lannister." 

The pair walked down the corridor as people remained in their spots whispering amongst each other about what had just happened. The hall was dimly lit with a single candle lining a few yards apart to give the corridor some light. They turned into a darker corner as silence fell between them and a sudden feeling took over Daenerys. She had never met anyone like Sansa Stark. No man carried a room the way she did, nobody. She stopped walking and Sansa, just a step ahead, stopped too. She turned around and looked at her new friend. "What is it?" Sansa asked. 

Daenerys stepped closer to Sansa. The loss of Viserion buried itself deep inside of her. Dany's emotions were running rampant.

The Stark towered over her, nevertheless, nothing could have stopped Daenerys from kissing Sansa at that moment. It was a bit clumsy, she'd pulled Sansa down to meet her lips, and Sansa-- in surprise-- stumbled backward against a wall, but soon the Stark leaned into the kiss and for a moment she was in the gardens of King's Landing again walking with Margaery Tyrell.

Margaery's words floated in her head as she felt Daenerys slip her tongue between Sansa's slips, _m_ _ost women don't know what they like until they've tried it. And, sadly, so many of us get to try so little before we're old and gray..._

 

* * *

When all was settled Arya began to search Winterfell for Podrick. She'd wanted to talk to him and if she didn't she wanted to spar with him. Petyr Baelish was dead, but afterward when she saw the look on Gendry's face she was filled with annoyance again. She wanted to hit something. "He's not here," Meera Reed said. It was rare that the pair of them ran into each other and when they did Meera was watching over Bran as if she was another sister to him. "Who?" Arya said.

"Your friend, Podrick," Meera said. "Sansa sent them to King's Landing to meet with Cersei along with Jon Snow and the Dragon Queen." 

"Oh," Arya said.

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." 

Meera scoffed at that, "that's a fat lie," Meera said. "The world is falling apart around us and you're saying nothing's wrong? Well, if you won't tell me I'll have to beat it out of you." 

Arya smirked, the last person she'd sparred with that was a woman was Brienne and Meera... Meera wasn't a knight or Faceless Man. She was a brawler. If she had no fight in her neither she nor Bran would be alive. "I'll try to go easy on you," Arya said. They rounded the corner two hands pulled them away. When they turned, both ready to fight, Missandei had her forefinger over her lips and her eyes wide. The pair looked silently at each other and peered around the corner. Arya's jaw dropped.  _Sansa and Daenerys Targaryen._

* * *

Once the tables were set back in the Great Hall, Sandor sat down and awaited the food. Tormund sat beside him with Gendry and Beric sitting across. "What the fuck are you looking gloomy about?" Sandor asked. 

Gendry looked up at the Hound. "Yeah, I speaking to you, boy," Sandor said. "I thought you were done with the whinging." 

"I'm not-" Gendry stopped as Arya entered with two other women just beside her. Sandor and Tormund turned their heads to see who he was looking at. "Ah..." Beric said. "Lady Arya has grown into a woman."

Sandor leaned forward into the table and looked at Beric like a rabid dog, "aye, the wolfgirl has grown up, and that's all any of you will say about it." 

"I'm only relaying the message that this one isn't saying," Beric said.

"That isn't it," Gendry snapped. 

"Good," Sandor said. "It better not be. If she doesn't kill you first, I will." 

"Or Snow will," Tormund said. "Never seen him like that with the other one, they're close, but the one that opened that cunt's throat... she's like his pup. His vicious little pup." Tormund looked at Arya approvingly. 

 

 

Arya caught a glimpse of him and excused herself from her companions. She approached their table and he began to sit up straight. "Let's do it," Arya said. 

"What?" He said, stupidly. 

"Spar with me. If you win, I'll forgive you. If you lose, we never speak to each other again." 

She extended her hand to him and he took it. 


	7. A Dancer Against the Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially had Podrick in this chapter instead of Meera, but I forgot that Pod and Brienne were gone so if some pronouns are incorrect, I apologize. Also, this chapter is pretty dang short, I just wanted to do a quick update before I get back to the bigger stuff with Sansa, Dany, and Cersei in the next chapter. Be back soon!

A crowd began to gather in the yard, the snow had been washed away and turned over and over so that the ground was more dirt than ice, though now it was mostly just mud. Wildlings, Dothraki, Northmen, and other folk gathered all around the tiny little arena as Arya Stark and Gendry took to their corners. The buzz had gone around, _a lady against some boy, what a laugh this will be--_ at least that's what many of them thought before they saw Gendry. He was a man grown, dirt on his face, hand rough from, arms rougher from working in the forge. The fight seemed more interesting now, especially since they'd seen Arya Stark and knew what she could do with a blade, at least when it came to helpless lard like Littlefinger. But Podrick knew, Brienne knew, and Sansa knew how Arya could fight. Even Jon Snow knew she could fight now. But Gendry didn't. Gendry remembered the little girl with the pointy stick. The stick she had decided to use for their little spar now. 

Meera Reed hurried around the edges of the yard to get to Arya, "Arya," Meera said. "Your brother--"

"If you're about to tell me Jon isn't going to want me-"

"No, I was going to say you'd better hurry because your brother will get word of this soon and if that happens he'll surely make you both stop." 

Arya looked surprised at Reed's words and gave her smile. "Thank you." Arya made her way to the center of the yard with just her Needle in her hand. "You're going to fight me with that little thing?" Gendry said as he approached her.

"I would say it isn't all about size, Gendry," she said. "It's also about skill, though I guess you think size is all that matters." She poked his new hammer with the end of her Needle. "Good luck catching me." 

Arya and Gendry looked around, "who will be judging this fight?" She asked the crowd. They cheered, but only Tormund stepped in. "I will," he said. "And so will the dog." 

The Hound grunted. Tormund put a hand on Gendry's shoulder. "Don't fucking kill her, lad, or you've killed the both of you." 

"I'll try not to," Gendry said with a cocky grin. 

Gendry looked down at Arya who mirrored his smile. "Alright, let's get this fucking over with," the Hound said. "Better things to worry about..." 

They took a few steps back and readied their weapons, Arya, knowing Gendry wouldn't dare, took the first lunge forward and swatted at him. Laughter erupted from the cheering crowd, but Sandor was more worried than he had thought as Gendry began to swing is hammer. With every swing he missed or she dodged. The crowd got louder and louder. "For fuck's sake, someone cut someone!" Some Wildling said and in spirit, the Dothraki seemed to understand and began to jeer. Arya smiled and did as the crowd begged, she put a small cut on Gendry's pretty face. Shock widened his eyes as he realized what she'd done, she was fast. Like drops of rain on a stormy sea, her movement was hard to trace, but not unseen. "Come on, Gendry, don't tell me you're afraid," she said so that only he could hear. 

He swung this time at her feet, not to hurt her, but to trip her off her game and he succeeded, Arya fell on her rump and the noise shifted from roaring cheers to reluctance, but once again Arya marked Gendry with her tiny little sword. The cut stung him enough for him to let go of his hammer and Arya, quick on her feet again, lifted herself up with her arms. With all her might she kicked his shins with the force of both her feet and twirled around as gracefully as a dancer and now Gendry Waters was on his knees and she had the sword to his chin. The crowd rejoiced excitedly, people whistling and calling her "Stark," singing it like a battle cry. "Stark, Stark, Stark!" 

The Hound relaxed as Tormund, laughing like a madman, patted Sandor hard on the shoulder. 

Gendry, mainly wounded from defeat and knowing this was it, they would never speak again, stayed on his knees in front of her, huffing and puffing like a cornered bull ready to charge. "I'm sorry," Arya began to say, he could barely hear her over the crowd then suddenly they could only hear Jon's voice breaking through the crowd as he himself pushed past the Northmen, Dothraki, Wildings, and the rest. Jon looked at Tormund who put his hands up in surrender, his face twisted and red with annoyance. "What is the meaning of this?" He asked and Arya, for a moment, saw her father's ghost wearing Jon's face.

"I-," Gendry began to say. "I'm sorry." But he wasn't speaking to Jon, he meant to say the words to Arya as he charged forward on his knees and tackled her. He pinned her down and she tried to kick him, but this time size did matter and Arya was at a loss. The silence was broken again as cheering came from the Dothraki and the rest followed, except most of the Northmen who wanted to keep their heads. "Get off me, stupid bull!" Arya struggled. 

"Friends," he said breathlessly. "Friends...?"

She shut her mouth and glared at him as Jon and Tormund pulled him off Arya. "Gendry, I've been kind to you," Jon began to say as Arya gathered herself together and picked up Needle. 

"Friends," Arya said stiffly, Meera coming to her side and helping her replace her sword belt.  "Jon, he's my friend." 

Unwillingly, Jon let Gendry go. "This is your one and only warning, Gendry. I like you, I don't want to have to kill you." 

Gendry nodded and walked over to Arya and Meera. Tormund gave a laugh. "She likes him more than you do," he said. "Besides, if you hadn't fucking walked out here and tried to stop it she would've won. He only got her because you distracted your little wolf sister."

Jon looked at Gendry and Arya, he didn't like it. He and Gendry were of the same age, he knew the things going on in Gendry's head. The way Gendry looked at Arya now... it reminded him of Ygritte. The thought crushed his heart twice over, like a wave of little needles. Like Needle in Arya's hand.  _You know nothing, Jon Snow._

He turned and made his way to the castle. They'd need to leave soon. He couldn't be kept here any longer and besides they needed to meet with Cersei Lannister. 

 


	8. All Men Must Serve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King’s Landing is a few days away by ship, White Harbor is a few days away by road, and winter is coming.

Sansa woke with a start. Missandei was sitting quietly in the corner of a room reading a book by small rays of light shining through the window. “Good morning, Lady Stark,” Missandei said when she noticed Sansa. 

 

“I—I...” 

 

Daenarys sat up beside her groggily and equally naked. “Gods...” Dang yawned and smiled at Missandei who smiled back. “Don’t worry,” Dany said. “You can trust Missandei, she’s been my closest friend since I met her.” 

Like clockwork Missandei stood as Dany did and she went to her queen and handed her a thick fur robe. Sansa watched quietly, “My lips are sealed, my lady,” Missandei told Sansa. 

“H-how long have you been sitting there?”

”I called for her when you fell asleep,” Dany said. “Don’t worry, no one saw me like this. No one else knows.”

Missandei’s eyes shifted and Dany caught her, “Missandei?” 

“Lady Stark’s sister knows, she saw.”

Sansa was horrified, “saw?”

”Earlier in the hall.”

Sansa wasn’t completely relieved, but she did trust that Arya would keep her mouth shut. Even if Jon was her favorite brother, she wouldn’t rat out Sansa, not like when they were little. “Jon Snow wished for us to leave last night, to go to King’s Landing.”

”You stalled him?”

”I told him that you were recovering from...” from the loss of your dragon, Missandei wanted to say. It wasn’t a complete lie. 

”I see... thank you.” 

Missandei helped Dany dress quickly and they bid Sansa farewell until they were to leave. 

Sansa fell back into her bed and wrapped herself up in the fur and wool. She put her face between her knees and muffled her squeals. They has tasted each other in more ways than one and it had pleased her more than anything, but she had never fallen asleep beside someone so comfortably. If she hadn’t had a nightmare it would’ve been a perfect night, but that dream... ice and fire everywhere. Never ending. It scared her.

* * *

A knock came to Jon’s door, “enter,” he said without thinking. His mind had been on Gendry and his little Sister and just at that moment Bran and Meera entered. “Jon,” Bran said catching his attention.

”Bran,” Jon said looking up from the fireplace. 

“You can leave us,” Bran told Meera. She rolled her eyes and left, closing the door behind her.

Jon gave a scoff, “you ought to be nicer to her.”

”Am I not?”

Jon shook his head, “what is it little brother.”

”You want to know about what happened to Arya, don’t you? And about Gendry?” 

“How...?”

”Just listen,” Bran said. “Nobody should be more disappointed in Gendry than Arya. I’ve seen the things they’ve been through. So understand, whatever Gendry feels for Arya it is nothing except pure love. What Arya feels for Gendry, I can’t say. Her path has been different. I can’t tell what she contemplated or what happened in Braavos, not really. But I know what happened to Gendry since the pair were split.” 

“I don’t care about that, Bran.”

”Very well, then I’ll go.” 

Before Bran could leave Jon stopped him, “okay, I care a bit. Arya’s our sister. Aren’t you worried? Father would be.”

”We aren’t father,” Bran said. “You’re her brother, you can’t tell her what to do and you can’t always protect her. Father couldn’t either, even when he tried.”

”You’re right.”

”Bran’s right about what?” Sansa asked walking into the room. 

“About Arya,” Jon said. “I’ve been hovering over her since she’s gotten back or I feel I have and I have no right.”

”It’s hard for all of us,” Sansa said. “We hadn’t new seen each other in years and suddenly we’re a pack again, trying to survive winter, war, and change. She may walk and talk like Arya, but she’s had to do things I wish I was strong enough to protect her from needing to do. But I couldn’t and I can’t.”

”Nevertheless, Arya can,” Bran said. “Does that put you at ease?”

”Yes, it does. Thank you, both of you.”

”I believe the queen’s waiting in the Great Hall.”

”The queen?” Jon said as he stood up. “You sound as if you admire her.”

”I’ve something to tell you, but I’ll tell you when you return.”

Jon narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Sansa. “Don’t worry,” Sansa said. “It isn’t too complicated.” 

Jon pushed Bran’s chair down the corridor and the three of them headed toward the Great Hall.

* * *

 

“It’ll be a long journey then,” Dany said. “But it will be worth it.”

”hopefully,” Tyrion said.

”Hopefully?” The dragon queen echoed.

”As I’ve said before, my sister is not the easiest person, in fact she’s the worst.”

”Even with proof?” 

“She’ll have something up her sleeve.”

Footsteps ran into the hall which at the moment only had a handful of people in it, the Hound, some Dothraki, Missandei, and Tyrion.

“And we’ll have something up ours,” a familiar voice came. Tyrion’s blood ran cold.

Joining them at that particular moment was a tall dark figure. Everyone’s eyes widened. The Dothraki stepped away in fear. “Y-you’re dead...” Tyrion said. “We saw you die.”

”You’re right,” Littlefinger said. “I am dead.” 

“How?”

"Isn’t that a good question?” Littlefinger smiled and gave them a bow, but as he rose he moved his hand over his face and suddenly he shrunk down and staring back at them was Arya Stark. “Take me with you, if Cersei’s got tricks than so do we.”

”The moment she sees Littlefinger she’ll kill you.”

”I won’t have to be Littlefinger.”

”Who will you be then, wolfgirl?” The Hound asked.

Arya looked over at him and he looked back slightly frightened at how easily she’d fooled them all. “I’ll become the person you hate the most.”

Tyrion scoffed, “you’re going to kill the Hound and wear his face?”

”Bugger off imp,” the Hound said. “I don’t hate myself.”

”You could’ve fooled me,” Tyrion said.

”She’s talking about my brother.”

Tyrion was taken aback and made speechless at the thought.

”Who is your brother?” Missandei asked.

”Gregor fucking Clegane,” the Hound said and looked up at Dany. “You might know him as the Mountain, Your Grace. The man who killed your sister-in-law and her little children.” 

A scowl fell over Dany’s face.

”Your Grace?” Missandei said to break the silence. 

“He didn’t just murder them...” Dany said. “He raped Elia and bashed in the skull of my nephew like an animal. Like a rabid dog.” For a moment they all thought that perhaps Dany was going to have Sandor burn for his brother’s crimes, but just then Sansa, Jon, and Bran entered the room.

“Is something the matter?” Sansa asked. 

The fire faded from Dany’s face as she set her eyes on Sansa. “No,” she said. “Nothing. We have a plan.” 

“We?” Jon asked.

Arya raised a finger to catch his attention. “A backup plan mostly,” Tyrion said. 

 


	9. A Handmaiden’s Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I haven’t updated this story in like two weeks and it’s been a bit since I started it and idk if there are plot contradictions in this chapter. If there are let me know. Thanks for reading :)

They saw her as a glorified handmaiden, but Missandei was more than that to Dany. She was sure of it. Even though the young woman had to call Daenerys by her title (and she did it with grace and complete respect), she knew her queen was a good woman. Hotheaded, stubborn, but in the end her heart was too big to let her be cruel and she supposed that’s why Dany asked her to stay behind and keep Lady Sansa company. There would be less women at Winterfell now and once again Sansa would be parted from her sister Lady Arya.

Missandei surveyed the Great Hall. Lady Lyanna Mormont, Lady Alys Karstark, Lady Meera Reed and Lady Sansa Stark were the only women there (at least of the status which allows them to sit amongst this court of highborns). Missandei distracted herself from any worrisome thoughts of her friends, especially any thoughts of Grey Worm. They’d had a night together in Dragonstone. The thought of it made her hot, but when she moved her glance away from her feet she saw that a tinge of anxiety masked Lady Sansa’s face. She’d never seen any other women wear that look except a queen.

Missandei made note in the back of her head to remember to try and get Sansa to open up to her. After all, Dany doted over Sansa enough to make her stay behind.

Bran wheeled himself into the room followed by two— no three strange figures. One rather round, the other stringy and the last one was wrapped up and in the stringy one’s arms. “Lady Sansa Stark?” The round one said, his voice was low and humble. His face was thick and boyish and seemed endlessly worried about something or other. “My name is Samwell Tarly.”

“Tarly?” Sansa said. “From Hornhill?”

“Yes. B-but I’m not the heir or anything, I’m... well, that part doesn’t matter. I’m a friend of Jon’s— or should I call him the king?—“

“What brings you hear?”

“The three of us need to speak,” Bran told Sansa. “In private.”

“Of course,” Sansa said. “Let me have a room prepared for you and your... wife?”

“I’m not his wife— your Grace.”

A sympathetic smile crept on Sansa’s face. “I’m not a queen, Lady Sansa will do.”

“Your Lady...?” The stringy one said.

“Right, this is Gilly and her baby, Sam.”

“Meera, find them rooms,” Bran said.

Meera tolled her eyes, she’d been in Winterfell for a while, but not long enough to know everything. For a moment she longed for Hodor to around so he could do all this. A pang of pain hit her. She suddenly wished Jojen was around too and little Rickon... even Osha. “Follow me,” she said numbly. She’d find a place for them and maybe she’d leave too. Bran didn’t need her and she surely wasn’t a servant. She wanted to go back home and see her father while she still could.

Sansa had Missandei accompany them down the hall. It was a bit of comfort to have Missandei around. She was soft spoken, honest, and smart. Sansa liked that and understood why Dany loved the young woman so much.

“She’ll need to stay out here,” Bran said.

Sansa gave Missandei and apologetic glance. “Of course, my lord, my lady,” she curtsied and let them on their way.

As Sansa, Bran and Sam found themselves in her solar a ill feeling began to build in Sam’s stomach. “I’ve stolen something from the Citadel, Rhaegar had annulled his marriage to Elia Martell.”

“What’s this have to do with anything?” Sansa asked.

“He did it because he married someone else. Around that time he was known to have kidnapped your aunt... but others say she went willingly. Some say they fell in love.”

Bran looked at Sansa and Sansa returned his glance. “What are you saying?”

Just then Bran’s head flew back and he had a vision. It was spring, a beautiful spring day by a river. A man was marrying off a young couple, one was a Targaryen and the other looked familiar to him. For a moment he thought it had been Arya, the Stark features were so obvious, but then as he rounded around he recognized the shape of her face and the make of her hair. It was Lyanna. Samwell was right and he had other news too. He just wasn’t sure when he should have said anything. Perhaps he should’ve said something before. At least then there was only a potential for danger. Now it was imminent. “What is it?” Sam asked. “What happened?”

“He’s had a vision.”

“A vision?” Sam asked with a confused little smile.

“I saw Aunt Lyanna marrying Rhaegar... that’s not all, a while ago I had a vision in which Lyanna gave birth to a child in the Tower of Joy. It was a boy.”

“Rhaegar has an heir?” Sansa asked, suddenly worried about Dany. This would destroy her or worse, it would throw her lover—- her friend— into a third war. If that boy still lingered, but Sansa should’ve held her breath because it was taken away from her the second Bran finished his next sentence.

“It’s Jon. Jon’s the true heir of Aunt Lyanna and Rhaegar. He’s the rightful king.”

Everything seemed to come apart at the seems.

Missandei backed away from the door. Did she hear all of that correctly? She placed her hand over her mouth and felt her heart racing. At that moment Missandei felt compelled to tell her queen, but hopelessly that feeling had to sit with her until she figured out a way to tell Dany.

Meanwhile, Sansa pushed open the window and let cold air flow into the room. Everything felt suddenly hot. She was loyal to Jon, he was her brother—— no, he was her cousin and Dany... Dany was Jon’s aunt. They were family in a way.

Oh, gods... I what do I do? Sansa thought. Who do I tell? She wondered who she should tell first when they returned or if they both should be told at the same time. What would happen when the news broke through. Sansa knew that Jon would never want to be king, but in his stead Jon had left Sansa in charge. Under Jon’s orders, Sansa was in charge did that extend to these new circumstances? Was Sansa the Queen Regent and did that mean she would need to decide what to do about Dany? If Jon doesn’t, the Northmen will want her to. Thoughts raced through her head. She grabbed her stomach and felt suddenly sick under all of her anxiety. “Excuse me,” she said and pushed through the door.

Despite how she felt about Dany and how she believed the Mother of Dragons felt about her... Sansa felt compelled to fight for the throne. It had been the cause of all the problems her family faced. Would it be so stupid? But then another thought crossed her mind. Could a kingdom be whole with two queens? Would the High Septons marry two women against the gods? If they refused Daenerys always had dragons.

Then she remembered. Dany didn’t want to get married. Not to anyone.

“My Lady?” Missandei said. “You look ill.”

Sansa looked at Missandei and wanted to tell her everything. Instead the pair went for a very quiet walk in the thick snow. Both were wondering what was happening in King’s Landing now. 


	10. The Other Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited. So sorry for the shitty grammar/spelling.

When Arya stepped out of her small room on the ship she was no longer Arya Stark. All eyes observed the phantom mask she wore. She stole every mannerism of Littlefinger, the smile she gave made a chill run down Tyrion’s back. “I hear the Greyjoy boy and what’s left of their fleet will be waiting for us when we anchor,” she said, her voice so eerily precise to match that of Petyr Baelish’s.

“Cat caught your tongues?” She asked. “This can’t happen when we get there.”

“Sorry,” Tyrion said.

“Let’s run down the plan again,” Jon said wanting to make sure everyone knew where they were meant to be and when. Dany would be excluded from the conversation because she was flying overhead, Gendry ended up staying behind at Winterfell on the orders of Arya, and Missandei had also stayed behind on the orders of the Dragon Queen.

“Alright,” Tyrion said. “More than likely my dear sister will do something to have Littlefinger arrested and killed—“

“That bit is easy, I get arrested,” Arya said.

“And I’ll bail you out with the help of our dog friend here,” Davos said. “He knows that bit of the castle, plus I need an armed guard. I’m not much of a swordsman if you know what I mean.”

“Once that’s done we’ll go after your brother,” Arya said. “And from there we’ll wait around for Cersei to want to be alone and then I’ll kill her and end this fucking war.”

“Remember,” Tyrion said. “Everything won’t be as easy as it is on paper.”

“But it will happen,” Jon said. “This is the only way if things go wrong.”

“Yes,” Tyrion said, glad that they were finally listening to him. “Of course, if things don’t go wrong and she agrees to help us then we’ll still need to break your sister out without being detected.”

“Why can’t we just go straight to our second plan?” Arya asked.

“Because, wolfgirl,” the Hound said. “People are sick of switching sides and dying for this war and that. At least if they’re forced to do it by the queen they’ll bitch about her and not at us.”

“That’s putting it simply,” Tyrion said.

Footsteps descended from above deck and Grey Worm appeared. “We’re only a few leagues from anchoring,” he announced. “The queen has ordered me and my men to stay aboard and Theon Greyjoy is on deck.”

Suddenly Arya stiffened in her mask, Grey Worm seemed to be indifferent at the sudden resurrection of the man before him. Jon felt Arya’s eyes through her mask. “Arya?”

“It’s Petyr,” she said trying to push off the feeling of absolute hate for that Greyjoy bastard. “Lord Baelish if it pleases you, my lord and Littlefinger behind my back.”

“Theon isn’t as you remembered,” Jon said, ignoring her words. “And he isn’t what you think he would be after everything.”

She gave a small subtle bow. “Very well, we’ll leave the matter for another time.”

Arya did not mean a word of it. Despite what Theon had done for Sansa, Arya had little knowledge of what he had been through, how far gone he was. All she knew was that Theon betrayed Robb. She never had much love for Theon, in fact she would’ve said he was annoying, but she’d grown up knowing him to be one of her brothers and because of him she lost two real brothers. Blame it on the Boltons, but Arya would be damned if she blamed all of it on those traitors. Theon made Winterfell vulnerable.

She suddenly began to wonder why she’d never put him on her list. Though, she had to put that aside until they dealt with Cersei.

* * *

 

From above the world was different. It wasn't that everything was tiny, it was that from the clouds everything seemed like a dream. Dany rested her head on Drogon feeling comfortable on the dragon for the first time since Viserion's death. She had lost so much already. These days she felt as though she was risking more and more. Westeros was not like Essos where people weren't quite readily organized for an assault. In Westeros, people like Cersei were paranoid enough to be ahead of their enemies. Dany laid her trust in Arya Stark now, she wouldn't have ever thought that something like this would happen. She'd thought Jon Snow was handsome but foolhardy. She expected the coldest part of Westeros to warm up to her if he bent that knee, but Jon Snow was only a gateway which led to the real key to the north. His sisters. Dany allowed her mind to drift onto Sansa for just a moment before she'd only have Cersei on her mind, the other queen and her allies. 

She thought of Sansa's sweet smile and could almost taste her lemony lips. The image of the Stark dwindled away as she began to see the city of King's Landing, closer and closer she found herself flying over the dragonpit. To anyone, it would seem the best place to have this meeting, but with Tyrion's words about his sister, the dragonpit had dual purposes. To let the dragons in and remind the last Targaryen what happened to the rest of her bloodline the last time they were in King's Landing. She landed in the colosseum. "You're late," the voice was sharp and bitter. She would have never pictured the Lannister queen to have looked the way she did. Although Cersei was much older than Dany there was still beauty left in her face. Her high cheekbones, her sneering lips, and even her short golden hair showcased her natural Lannister beauty. They exchanged a few more words as Dany studied their surroundings. Arya, who had been using Petyr Baelish's face had already been bound and forced to be on her knees. They'd planned this. "Of course I suppose I should thank you," Cersei said as her finger fiddled with her chair's arms. "You've given me this rat to dispose of."

"A gift," Dany said. "To reassure you that I come in peace. To ensure you that _I am not a queen that allows snakes within my ranks_." 

Cersei narrowed her eyes at Dany knowing the measure of her words, her sneer returned to her face. Beside her was Theon Greyjoy's uncle, Euron and then Jaime Lannister. Dany felt a creepy desire to murder the man who stabbed her father in the back, but she pushed that fire away. Now wouldn't be the time. 

Dany took her seat and the council took place. Cersei looked frightened, genuinely frightened. Dany tried to conceal a smile, she was afraid of the creature too, but the expression on Cersei Lannister's smug face was priceless. Shortly after that Euron Greyjoy left with his tail seemingly tucked between his legs. Afterward, it was all down to Jon Snow. Everyone was screaming inside for Jon to lie. Dany wished could tell him then, even Arya wanted to yell at him and tell him to forget honor. But Jon Snow was not as wise as he thought he was. Jon Snow was just the shadow of Ned Stark or so he tried to be. They all huddled and spoke to Jon as Arya, still using Littlefinger's face, was taken away by the guards. Dany had no patience for Jon now. "How could you do that?" She said. "You've not just put us all at risk, but you let your sister's fate worse. There is no reason for us to stay now." 

"I couldn't lie." 

"There is a time for honor and a time for strategy," Tyrion said just as frustrated with Jon Snow as everyone else was. He could see Bronn and Podrick returning from some tavern while Brienne parted from Jaime after telling him to "fuck loyalty." 

Tyrion excused himself and went to meet his closest friends, leaving Dany and Jon to speak. Dany picked up a small skull of a dragon, as big as a dog's and held it in her hand before uttering a word to Jon. "Your Grace?" 

"Don't," Dany said. "Stop. Stop thinking that individual morals are greater than the fate of so many people. My people, your people, your family... you have no idea what it is like to truly be the last of your blood. These bones and ashes are all I have left aside from my dragons. You need to understand, Jon, that you must do everything for the people you care for and their future." 

"I am doing what I was taught." 

"Taught? The man who raised you is dead. Beheaded for his honor. You won't just be beheaded, all of the Starks will if you keep at this." She crushed the skull of the dragon and its ashes blew away in the wind. "This will be all that's left if you don't learn." She opened her palm and showed him the bits of dust left in her hands. "Luck and magic will not always be at your side, Jon Snow. When I lost Viserion I realized that. At the end of the day when all of it that is gone, all we have are the people we love. Don't fail them." She placed her hand firmly on Jon's shoulder before walking away. "Don't fail family. Don't fail Sansa." 

Jon watched her walk away wondering and then realizing. He heard Ygritte's voice again  _you know nothing, Jon Snow._

Tyrion walked beside Dany again and convinced her that there was hope and reminded her that even if there wasn't they needed to get Arya Stark out of the cells. 

* * *

 

Arya was unshackled after they threw her into a cell. She slid across the room and hit her palms on the door just as it was shut, "please," she begged in the most hopeless tone. "Please, let me speak to the queen. Please!" 

"She'll be round here soon enough," a guard said. "And if Her Grace isn't, then the Gregor here will crush you for her." 

The guard left, leaving Gregor Clegane to stand guard of Littlefinger until he was called back to Cersei's side. There was something to him, something very different. Gregor never spoke much before, but now he didn't speak at all. His skin seemed rotten and why was he hiding in that helm of his. Arya sat in the corner of her cell as she waited for her collaborators. Then, as clear as day, she heard Ser Davos's voice chirp in. She stood ready, she was unarmed, but she hoped they'd brought her Needle and her dagger. "Ser Gregor," Davos said. "Fancy seeing you here." 

Gregor said nothing. 

"Forget it," the Hound's voice came. Arya crouched under the small railed window and listened as she began to take off Petyr's face. "He's too stupid to listen. They did something to him." 

"Then what do we do?"

The Hound must've reached for the door when Arya heard a crash. Sandor cursed and picked himself up from down the hall. "I guess he's not all that stupid," Davos said beginning to back away. He held his hands in front of him. "What do we do?" He whispered to the Hound. "Shit. I'll distract him and you get the wolfgirl out of that fucking cell." 

"And if I can't do it fast enough?" 

"Then we're all dead." 

The Hound unsheathed his sword and charged for his brother who unsheathed his own greatsword and stomped toward the Hound. Davos ducked past them and went for the thick wooden door and began to pick at the lock. His hands sweat so much he dropped one of the picks twice before he was able to start. "You almost done?" Arya's voice came. She'd shed Littlefinger completely, aside from his clothes. "Give me a moment," Davos said trying his best not to look behind him. He was having trouble with the last spring when he heard a loud clang, he turned around out of panic and dropped his pick to find Sandor unconscious on the floor and the Mountain heading toward him from down the hall. "Shit," Davos said and frantically felt the floor for the thing piece of metal. "Shit. shit. shit." 

"What's going on?" Arya asked. Davos looked up as the Moutain raised his greatsword. "Move away from the door!" Davos said and slid out of the way of Gregor's sword. It broke open Arya's cell door and was stuck there for a few seconds, long enough for Davos to check on the Hound. Sandor was coming to. "Get up, we need to move your brother so Lady Arya can get out of the cell." Sandor gave a nod, he was still in a daze and was seeing two. "Get your sword ready, old man," Sandor said to Davos and Davos obliged. They stabbed their swords into Gregor's back only to find that it did not deter him. Gregor reached for the blades, but couldn't reach either. He let go of his sword and turned to face them, reaching to grab at Sandor. Arya kicked at the door over and over until she threw all her weight on her shoulder and pushed it open. The damage Gregor made to the door helped her escape and the force from her charge had made the Mountain's sword fall out from where it was stuck. Arya grabbed the sword that was about her height and nearly heavier than she was and dragged it onto the ground as she ran for Gregor. 

The Hound took a barrel which held up a candle stand and put it on its side. He kicked it forward and tripped his brother, putting him to his knees. With all of her strength, with all the hate, and anger, and with all her will Arya Stark beheaded Gregor Clegane. She let go of the bloody sword and fell to her knees in exhaustion. Arya could feel her heart pounding in her chest, she felt the hot blood running through her, pulsing in her small hands.  _One more name._ She thought. "Is that all you need?" The Hound asked as he dropped his brother's head in front of Arya's lap. "Just leave me to it," she said. 

The Hound suppressed the disgust he felt as Arya pulled the helm off his brother's head. "What did they do to him?" Davos said. "He looks like a dead man."

"It doesn't matter, I need my knife," Arya said. The Hound handed her the dagger and this time neither Sandor nor Davos could supress the utter disgust they felt as she peeled off Gregor's face.  

* * *

 

Cersei whispered to her guard as she headed down the hall, her footsteps echoed off the walls as Jaime caught up to her. “Not now,” she said. “Tyrion wants to speak with you.” A smile crept on her face. Perfect, she thought. “Send him in, but not until Gregor’s come.”

Jaime stopped and turned around to fetch Tyrion.

After a few minutes, a few minutes longer than Cersei had wanted, Gregor emerged. She said nothing to her annoyance with his tardiness and just as he entered, so did Tyrion.

Cersei listened to his pleas, she pressed her hand on her stomach making sure he noticed and then he tried to appeal to her. She picked up on it, but she could swear Tyrion meant what he was saying. Though, it didn’t matter to her. He picked his side. So she played her part and sang the song everyone wanted to hear.

Cersei Lannister was certain that she was a step ahead, however, she was sorely mistaken. Death was just beside her.

* * *

 


	11. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter on what the ladies are all thinking and doing and you know some foreshadowing of Arya and Podrick's friendship.

Meera Reed spies Bran under the Heart Tree from a long ways away. She watches him not sure when to tell him how she truly feels. The warm heart she had at the very beginning of this all had started to freeze over. Meera lost Jojen, that was the worst of all of it. Then she watched the Children of the Forest die out before her eyes and Hodor... Hodor was a particular memory she tried to banish. She felt guilty, the sort that ached her to the bone and she could not share this with Bran because he was not the Bran she knew anymore. In truth, Meera loves Bran. She loves him so much she wishes that when she leaves she can take him with her to Greywater Watch, but she can't because Bran is home now. Her hand balls up into a fist,  _I need to go home now too..._ she tells herself.  _I need to tell Bran that I want to go home now._ A tear streaked down her face, leaving Bran would be like watching Jojen die all over again. If she left now what did her brother die for? And this nagging inside of her, what was it?  _Is this love? Or is it the fear of being alone?_

She marched away, dragging her feet out of the snow and onto the yard of Winterfell. A clanging came to her ear along with some somewhat drunken laughter. The one called Gendry was hammering away at the forge with the blacksmith, they were talking about King's Landing. Meera looked at the boy who was about her age and then at the blacksmith. A moment later she finds herself standing there watching everyone and everything, living their lives well knowing that wars are coming yet... yet they smile and laugh without knowing what will happen tomorrow or in an hour and then she realizes that is why Bran no longer smiles or laughs. He knows too much of what has been and what is. Meera marches back into the castle and bumps into Samwell Tarly's... "Hello," the young woman said. "Do you happen to know where Bran is? Sam's lookin' for him." 

The girl carried a young child on her hip, her two front teeth poked out whenever her lips were even slightly parted, she looked sort of oblivious, but sweet. "He's by the Heart Tree." Meera looked at the child, she never thought about children, not in that sort of way. Besides, she never had time to. "Do you want to hold him?" The girl asked. 

Before Meera could say anything the child was handed to her, at first she was afraid it would cry out, but it only began to play with her dark curls in its little hands. "He's called Baby Sam," she said. "I'm Gilly."

"Meera," she said. 

"Are you a wildling too?" Gilly asked.

Meera was taken aback, not offended, but suddenly she was aware of what she must have looked like. Even before she ventured off with Jojen to find Bran, Meera had never worn the sort of clothes the Northmen wore. She was a Crannogmen. "No, I'm afraid not," Meera said. She bounced Baby Sam gently in her arms and a smile broke out on his face which she unconsciously mimicked. Perhaps she would never have a child, and in truth, she wouldn't want to bother, but here was the sign of new life. A sign of hope. "I'm from the Neck," Meera said. "It's south of here. It's probably cold there now, but I wouldn't know. I've never seen winter in a swamp." 

"Swamp?" Gilly said as if tasting a new flavor in her mouth. 

"Have you never been to one?" 

"I only know what beyond the Wall and I've seen the Citadel and Hornhill and the seas, but I don't know what a swamp is." 

Meera remembered she'd seen Sam and Gilly before, along with their baby. They'd met just before Rickon, Shaggydog, and Osha separated from their group. "It's a muddy place."

Gilly let out a small laugh, "how can people live on mud?" 

"We don't," she said and gestured for Gilly to sit down with her at a table. They sat down and played with Baby Sam on the tabletop. "My family doesn't live on mud, we live in Greywater Watch." Meera began to tell Gilly and Baby Sam the story of Greywater Watch, the pair listened in awe, she felt as though she made a new friend. 

* * *

 

Missandei had figured out how to send word to Dany. She remembered that they used ravens and told the maester she wanted to send Tyrion Lannister a message. He gladly obliged and sent out a raven to find the Lannister at King's Landing. That was a week ago. She continued to watch Sansa carefully, along with her brother Bran and the young man called Samwell Tarly. She read about the great houses of Westeros when Sam found her in the better part of the Winterfell library surveying the shelves. He was amazed at how many languages he knew and she was surprised that he seemed to see past her. Usually, men she came to meet would have tried something, but he smiled at her making his cheeks rise up on his face and then he walked away and indulged himself in his own collection on books by the fire at the far end of the library. 

So far Missandei mapped out all of Dany's newest allies. Taking out the Martells and the Tyrells, Dany now had the Unsullied, the Dothraki, what remained of Yara Greyjoy's men, and the Starks who had declared Jon Snow their king and because he has bent the knee to Dany that means that the houses Umber, Glover, Karstark, Mormont, Dustin, Manderly, and further on the Reeds were with Dany and from what she has overheard Sansa has been corresponding with her Uncle Edmure and the Lords and Ladies of the Vale. The Lannister had him captive for a while after Walder Frey had been murdered, but when word got around that "the North remembers," it spooked the Lannister soldiers enough to back a bit away from Riverrun and the Twins. They scattered around in smaller villages afraid of Cersei's rather and afraid that an assassin would come for them next. If what Missandei assumed was true, then that would mean Dany also had the support of the new Lord of Riverrun. That would add up to almost six more houses if their sworn houses kept their oaths and because Edmure Tully wed a Frey that would include those sworn to the Freys. Whatever Dany had lost since setting foot on Westeros she would be able to find more, nevertheless, knowing the truth about Jon Snow frightened Missandei.  _What will happen when Her Grace finds out? Would she step down? Never..._

* * *

 

Sansa had many things planned in the background. If there was a war coming to Winterfell it was best to find a means of escape. A safe place for people who could not fight. Sansa was setting up a plan for evacuation. People who did not have the skill or ability to fight in the coming war would be going to one of two places, perhaps more if she could make it possible. The Riverlands and the Vale. She herself would be going to the Eyrie when war broke out, she would take Bran with her along with Samwell Tarly and his family. She would also say she'd take Arya but she knew of her sister's ulterior motives and would never want to get in the way of that now. She made certain to write down that Brienne would not be leaving her side nor Brienne's squire for that matter. Sansa was not keen on losing more people than she had to. That was when the thought of Dany struck her.  _Would she go to war too?_ She remembered the tales of the Targaryen princesses who went to battle with their brothers on their dragons. Her breath was caught in her throat until she pushed away from the idea of losing Dany. 

Sansa returned her attention to the map, Alys Karstark, and Ned Umber would go to Riverrun under her uncle's care and protection. A portion of his soldiers would be arriving in a couple of days time along with a few more. Sansa was afraid that Lord Royce would request to go home, but ever since the trial of Littlefinger he seemed more prone to sticking around. He admired Sansa and she knew he wanted to please her in order to perhaps repair any future alliance with the Stark-Tullys. It was the first time she really realized her own power. She may not have been born for the Iron Throne like Jon or Dany, but she was born to serve the Seven Kingdoms. She had the North and the East. Cersei had the West, but from the word going around the Tarly's were promised the West and despite Dany having killed Samwell's father and brother, Samwell was the rightful heir. All that was left was the South. Cersei ruled the South, but were Cersei Lannister's allies with her out of love or fear?  _Fear is brittle._ Thought Sansa.  _And brittle things break with just a flick._

Sansa sat on her bed and slowly she fell asleep feeling prepared for anything. 

* * *

 

Tyrion Lannister's eyes flashed with shock. He pulled open his door as they were getting ready to set sail. "Pardon me," he said in his usual chipper tone as he pushed passed Jon on the way to Dany's room. Jon stopped and watched Tyrion curiously clutting a piece of parchment and knocking on Dany's door. "Yes?" Dany asked him. 

"I need to speak to you privately," he said. "I've just received a letter from Missandei. It's urgent." 

Dany looked at Jon and allowed Tyrion in, Jon turned himself around and walked back to his room. He was hoping test out his theory about Dany and Sansa. He quickly scolded himself,  _perhaps they have just bonded. It wouldn't be a surprise, they've been through hell together and have lost so much and so many people._

Tyrion grabbed a goblet of and poured wine into it as Dany read the letter by the candlelight, she wanted to burn it, but she didn't. "He doesn't know," Dany said. 

"Are we going to tell him?" Tyrion asked. 

Dany was uncertain of what to do. She was elated that she was not alone, but also she felt dread because she was not the rightful heir. "We have to," she said. 

"If we do---"

"If we do there's a chance I will not be queen. His people follow him and if we tell him and the rest of Westeros finds out-- seeing as Missandei has reported that there is evidence-- then Cersei will have no choice but to give up her claim." 

"They weren't taking to a Targaryen before, why should they if it's him?"

"Because he's a man  _and_ because he was born in Westeros and raised by Ned Stark. He is both a Stark and  Targaryen by blood." 

Tyrion took a big swig of wine. "There is one thing we aren't considering," Tyrion said.

"What is that?" 

"Will he want to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms?"

Tyrion was right, it was something to consider, but Dany's mind had drifted. _If Jon Snow does stake the claim he'll have to marry and there are only two women suited for him,_ Dany thought, _I'm not willing to marry him and I certainly am not going to let him take Sansa away from me._

It was then that she became worried. A second ago she had been convinced that even if he tried there was still a chance for her to trump his claim. It was Jon Snow's mother and father that threw Westeros into turmoil and perhaps that would appeal to her case, but if he managed to take Sansa... Sansa who Dany knew the people would love... then she had no chance to the throne. What bothered her more was that Jon could take Sansa from her because Sansa was loyal. Loyalty seemed like a double-edged sword at that moment. 

* * *

 

Brienne of Tarth watched as her squire paced the deck of Theon Greyjoy's ship. It was a small ship, a carrack perhaps, she wasn't certain. Brienn opened her mouth and said, "will you--"

"--bloody stop pacing!" The Hound finished. Sandor Clegane had joined them. He was sitting comfortably on some sacks of grain with his arms folded and his eyes closed while his armored back was leaned against the mainmast of the ship. 

Podrick Payne stopped and looked apologetically at both and then walked over to Theon who was staring silently at the fog ahead of them. They were only leagues away from shore, but they needed to keep themselves hidden. Theon had many things on his mind. He neede to get Arya back to Jon at White Harbor and then afterward go to Essos to hopefully save Yara or die trying.  _Dying is likelier,_ he thought.  _But that is the iron price._

"Do you remember me?" Podrick asked him. In truth Theon could barely remember Brienne, he only remembered her because she was the largest woman in armor he had ever seen. Seeing Brienne made him long to see his sister even more. "We helped rescue Lady Sansa in the woods outside of Winterfell." 

"Oh," he said bleakly. 

"You saved my life," Podrick said. 

"I did?" 

Podrick scratched the back of his head a bit embarrassed. "Of course, I'm sure you've saved so many people that--"

"That's not it," Theon said quickly. They were silent for a bit and then he added, "at least I've done something right in my whole miserable existence." 

Podrick was flattered, he felt himself blush. All the worry he had felt for Arya had subsided for the moment in Theon's presence. To him, Theon Greyjoy portrayed the images of the ironmen he had heard all about as a child, little did he know Theon was more complex than that. More tragic. "How much longer are we to wait for her royal annoyance?" Sandor asked with his eyes still closed. 

"She'll signal us," Brienne said.

"How exactly? That part of the plan had not been shared with me." 

They both looked to Theon who shrugged and said, "I'm not quite sure either." 

The anxiety returned and twisted Podrick's stomach. Brienne gave him a look as she thought,  _she'll be fine. I promise._

* * *

 

Arya shifted uncomfortably in Gregor's frame as Cersei and Jaime were arguing. She wanted to kill Cersei then. But she didn't want to risk being caught and if she had she would have never heard or seen how truly different Jamie Lannister was from his sister.  _Is Cersei the only true rotten Lannister left?_ she wondered. That was when Cersei threatened to have Gregor kill Jaime, Arya saw the fear in his eyes.  _Fear cuts deeper than swords,_ she thought, but Jaime stood his ground until everyone in the room was certain that Cersei did not mean a word of what she said. So Jaime marched off and Cersei was left to brood. Arya found out in the expanse of the time she was disguised as Gregor that Cersei Lannister had lied to her brother and the other earlier that day. She wanted to get rid of them as Euron Greyjoy went to pay the Golden Company to sail to Westeros and destroy what remained of the Stark and Targaryen alliance after the Night King was done with them. 

Cersei fell to her seat. She grabbed a glass and reluctantly poured water into it as she sighed. Seeing the Targaryen and Jon Snow didn't only remind Cersei of her dwindling youth and beauty, but also of how Rhaegar had passed her over for a Stark. "Lyanna Stark," she said and for some odd reason, Arya's heart dropped to her stomach.  _Why did she mention Aunt Lyanna's name?_ "The bitch stole everything from me. There was Elia, but I was certain she'd die and the Mad King would see sense. But she lived on and instead of running away with me he chose Lyanna Stark. The woman Robert was betrothed to..." Cersei trailed off and began to sob. "The woman Robert loved until his dying day. I remember her face, her long Northern face and her grey eyes." She looked up at Gregor and laughed. "I sound mad and I suppose I am." Cersei stood up and walked over to the map of Westeros painted on the floor. "I told Robert once, I said, 'what harm can Lyanna Stark's ghost do to either of us that we haven't done to each other a hundred times over'?" Cersei closed her eyes and Arya listened to her. "There are so many things I regret. All because I was a foolish child, all because of father... all because I'm a Lannister and I was afraid I wasn't good enough. I wish I could go back, I wish I listened to _her_ and never met that witch." 

Cersei stood there for a long time and Arya allowed herself to shed her disguise. In the dim light of winter, Arya Stark looked like a phantom emerging from the shadows. Cersei Lannister's eyes widened as if the gods had heard her. Cersei was frozen in her spot, she stood over the Westerlands on the map unable to move as Arya inched closer. Cersei fell to her knees. "No... I've lost everything..." Cersei hugged her body. "Please, Lyanna..." 

Arya stood in front of her and Cersei looked up. "I'm not Lyanna Stark," she said. "I am Arya Stark and I've come here to avenge my father, Ned Stark." 

Gregor's sword was too heavy so Arya used what she could rely on. Her hands. Cersei gasped as Arya grabbed her pale neck and choked her madly. Arya watched as tears welled up at the corner of Cersei's beautiful green eyes. With her last breath, Cersei uttered--still holding her belly-- "Melara... I would've called her Melara." her body fell to the side. Arya took Cersei's face and blood pooled around the area of the Westerlands on the map and snow began to fall lightly on them. Arya walked away. It was over now. 

From the shadows, a man with white and red hair stepped over to Cersei's faceless dead body. "A girl has forgotten, she has one more name..." he said soft enough that she did not hear him or know he was there. 


End file.
